One thousand years ago

 The Abbey of San Galgano was built between 1218 and 1288 by Cistercian monks.  Around 500 years later, the bell tower was struck by lightning, which collapsed onto the roof of the Abbey, and the church was deconsecrated in 1789.  What is left is perfectly preserved, nestled into a long pathway framed by stately Cyprus trees.   Best of all, this treasure was less than 10 km away from our home base.   We would have missed it, except for a handy hint from Gigliano, our sweet hostess, and we made a valiant effort to walk there this morning but instead found ourselves deep in a Tuscan forest, watching an elderly Italian lady work patiently in her garden while her husband cut grapes from the vines.  It was a beautiful stroll and we swung through our tiny village again before hopping in the Fiat and making our way to the Abbey.   It was almost deserted and but for the eerie sound of the pigeons as they winged they way through the old ruins, it was resolutely silent.   Never have I been in a place like this, nor experienced the profound humbleness that can only come from immersion in a place of such dignified endurance.  

A steep hill led to the top of the vista and that is where the Cappella di San Galgano waits, and therein lies a story of the ages, chilling and mysterious.   This chapel was built by the knight Galgano Guiddotti, who lived as a hermit until 1181.   In the tiny room adjacent to the chapel and protected in an acrylic shell is his  sword, which he drove into the rock to symbolize his renunciation of the worldly life.  This was consecrated in 1185.  In the nearby chapel, built at the beginning of the 14th century, lie the remains of human arms.  According to legend, they belong to one of the three “envious” men, who tried to extract the sword, breaking it, while Galgano was absent.  His arms were then torn off by a wolf, a friend of the saint.  Carbon dating has revealed these relics are indeed from the XII century, thus contemporary to St. Galgano’s times.  Chilling.  Thrilling. Shivers. 

The frescos are still amazingly clear, representing “Scenes of the Life of Saint Galgano.”  These were painted in the 14th century.  We sat alone in a tiny chapel and when we fed the light meter with 50 cents, it illuminated the frescos and the Madonna to absolute perfection.

And the view, as we reluctantly brought our visit to a close:

As far as our trip plans go, we had a major score this morning.   The smart sibling wondered if we could drop off the Fiat in Napoli instead of Siena, thereby saving ourselves 7 hours on a hot train and giving us the opportunity to drive the entire route along the sea.   A polite call to our car guy revealed this was entirely possible and furthermore, by paying a paltry drop off fee, we saved ourselves 150 euros!   We are now busy filling in the four extra days tacked on between Sorrento and Brindisi, which are almost certainly going to be booked on the Amalfi coast, either in a hotel or in a VRBO.

It’s now mid-afternoon.   We are waiting for Gigliano to top off our gas tank for the stove so that we can pan roast vegetables to go along with our ravioli and a glass of Borollo.  La dolce vita, sweetness beyond words.